


Bigger and Better

by nonnyspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belly Kink, Chubby Dean, Feeding, M/M, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3281363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonnyspn/pseuds/nonnyspn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has put on more than a few pounds since they have retired from hunting. It's become a bit of a distraction to Sam who can't help but want more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t the content sigh of relief or even the little moans that caught Sam’s attention at the dinner table. The thing that made his attention shift from picking at what was left on his own plate to being focused on his brother was a distinct popping sound followed by a click. Sam stopped moving his fork and raised an eyebrow over at Dean who was now leaning back into his chair with his eyes closed.

“What was that,” Sam asked trying to figure out exactly why Dean looked as content as he did. Their dinner wasn’t anything that great, though you wouldn’t know by the way that Dean had gone at it. Sam had ordered takeout with the hope of it lasting for the next couple of days but Dean would be lucky if he had enough to put together a light lunch the next day… not that anything about Dean was exactly light these days.

“Don’t worry about it Sammy,” Dean answered. His voice was breathier than usual like he was winded from the meal.

Sam wiped his mouth with one of the take out napkins and pushed out his chair to get a better look at Dean.

They had been more or less retired from hunting for almost two years now. There was finally a balance between light and dark and the Winchesters were no longer needed on the front line. They dabbled in research, consulted other hunters, and every so often took on a small salt and burn case themselves but those times were now becoming fewer and far between. They had gotten themselves respectable civilian jobs. Dean worked at a garage and Sam had an on-line tutoring and paper-writing gig. They didn’t need much. They were comfortable with a civilian life and Dean’s waistline was evidence of that.

While their daily activities were much more relaxed than they had been in the past Dean’s eating habits hadn’t changed much. Despite surprisingly proving to be more than adequate in the kitchen Dean still had a soft spot for all things greasy and bad for him and there were times when he still ate as though he didn’t know when or where his next meal were going to come from. Old habits truly did die-hard and a much fuller Dean Winchester was the result.

Dean was currently rubbing his hand back and forth against his chubby middle, which was rounder than usual after the way that he stuffed himself during dinner. Much rounder in fact Sam observed while he took a long swig of beer.

“… Did you lose a button?” Sam asked as he noticed the way that Dean’s stomach pushed out past the open flaps of his jeans.

“Said don’t worry about it Sammy,” Dean answered with another heavy sigh. He continued to gently rub the bit of stomach that pushed out onto his lap. He shifted, reluctantly it seemed with a small grunting sound, and tried to pull down his shirt so that it covered the top of his jeans.

It didn’t.

Instead all Dean succeeded in was drawing more attention to his body.

They never really talked about the fact that Dean had gained weight. There wasn’t much point to it really. It wasn’t like Dean’s weight was a problem in any way, after all they were retired, and truthfully Sam thought that it suited him somehow almost like he was meant to be carrying the extra weight. Besides, Dean was happy and after the life that they had lived he deserved some happiness and if that came in the form of a triple cheeseburger with extra everything and a large shake to wash it down than so be it. Sam had been judgmental of his brother’s choices in the past, and still sometimes he would think it wouldn’t kill him to choose the salad every now and then at least for the argument of a more balanced diet, but it seemed like such a trivial thing. It hadn’t slowed down their sex life either. In fact things had been better than they ever had when they were actively hunting though Sam attributed that to their more stabilized life (and having a bed that wasn’t a crappy motel mattress helped).

So it wasn’t like Sam didn’t know that there was more of Dean these days but he hadn’t paid attention to it like the way that he did right now.

Maybe it was the sounds that Dean kept making… these little half pants half moans that were surprisingly sexy that was capturing Sam’s attention. The sounds though didn’t explain why Sam couldn’t pull his eyes away from how Dean’s shirt emphasized the curve of his stomach. The shirt stretched itself to the point of distortion and whenever Dean’s hand moved back and forth it outlined the dip of his navel, which was more pronounced than Sam could remember seeing it. No, what had captured Sam’s attention was that Dean was so fat and bloated he had manage to blow a button off of his pants and from the looks of it even if it had held on there was no way Dean would be getting those pants to close tonight. _Or ever again_ … the thought raced through Sam’s mind.

Sam’s breath hitched unexpectedly causing him to break out in a coughing fit that snapped him back into reality.

It brought back Dean too who grunted and moved his hands from his swollen middle to his sides as he straightened himself up in the chair with a groan. “You okay there Sammy,” Dean asked still clearly uncomfortable from his meal.

Sam nodded and reached for his drink. He gave Dean a quick nod as he took a long drink trying to regain his own composure and ignore the way that his dick had begun to stiffen in his pants.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam can't stop thinking about the night that Dean's button popped off.

What bothered Sam the most about his current situation was that he didn’t understand where any of these feelings were coming from. He had never thought about fat men, or women, before let alone been with one so it wasn’t like there was some type of deep secret kink that he had been harboring all of these years. Sam had always had a type and that type had never carried any extra weight. It wasn’t like he hated fat people, Sam had been a pretty chubby kid himself for a while, and it didn’t come out of a place of self-loathing either... Sam hadn’t struggled with his own weight since, well, puberty. Still he had always been drawn to women who were petite and with men? Well, truth be told he was drawn to guys that reminded him of his brother. 

Sam couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that’s where it all stemmed from. For as long as Sam could remember Dean had been his ideal for everything really. He loved everything that Dean was and every inch of his body so now that there was just more Dean? It made sense, sort of, if Sam tried not to think about it that much. 

That was also part of Sam’s problem. He thought about that night with Dean blowing his buttons constantly.

He still couldn’t place exactly what it was about it that drove him crazy. Dean had made far too much of a pig of himself that night to even think of doing anything sexual. The evening ended with Dean collapsing onto the bed, bloated and pained, once he was finally able to move and Sam jerking off in the bathroom. It wasn’t exactly a sexual high point for either of them. Still, Sam found himself replaying the night in his head over and over. The sound of Dean’s button flying off echoed in his ears and the image of his brother’s painfully swollen middle demanding to escape from the constraints of his clothing was etched into his mind. He would be lying if he didn’t think of it every time his lips touched Dean’s. He would be lying if he didn’t chase the taste of Dean’s lips wondering what his brother had snacked on that he hadn’t seen and secretly hoping that it was something fattening (and knowing Dean, it surely was). He didn’t want to give himself away but he couldn’t help but let his fingers linger every time that they touched Dean’s stomach where most of the excess weight seemed to sit or how he’d palm Dean’s thighs which had always been thick but were so delightfully padded that Sam wondered how many servings of pie it would take to get them to touch. When Sam topped he focused on the way that Dean’s flesh would jiggle slightly with each thrust. When Dean topped all Sam wanted to do was hold onto the love handles that sat so invitingly soft at Dean’s sides. The day Sam spotted a small stretch mark forming on the slight undercurve of Dean’s belly he came early like some damn teenager who couldn’t control himself. 

It was embarrassing really. 

When Dean was eating Sam found himself always trying to steal glances. Sam Winchester who had personally looked into the eyes of Lust and Gluttony swore they had nothing on his brother. Sometimes he wondered if Dean was on to him with the sounds that he made or how he would pause and give his bloated belly a rub, working himself up to be able to fit in more. 

It wasn’t long before the dreams started. 

Sometimes it would be like the night when Dean’s buttons popped only he wouldn’t stop eating. He would beg for more until every button was gone. Sometimes Sam would feed him a neverending tray of food or Dean would get so fat that his chair would break and he couldn’t move. Other times he dreamt of Dean already huge and Sam would worship at the altar of his brother’s glorious fat, licking and kneading him and urging him to grow until he filled the whole room. 

He had a wet dream more than once.

Sam was totally fucked.

He found himself preparing more food than he could eat and ordering desserts that he never had any intention of consuming. He’d tap out early and make excuses about the fridge making things taste funny or that such and such wouldn’t keep. Sometimes he didn’t even need to slide his plates over and Dean would just instinctively help himself. 

He couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Well,” Dean said with a heavy sigh. He leaned back in his seat and started rubbing his stomach (Sam couldn’t tell if it was an intentional move on his brother’s part or not). “I can’t really say that I’m surprised.”

Sam swallowed hard and scratched the back of his neck. “Really?” He asked, trying hard to look anywhere other than Dean’s belly despite his confession.

“Well I mean, you’ve been a little handsy lately. I’d have to be an idiot not to notice,” Dean shifted in his seat and tugged down at his t-shirt that was rising up slightly at his sides. “Never really took you for the chubby chaser type though.”

Sam could feel his face becoming more flushed with each passing moment. “I mean I’m not, it’s just that... and it’s...” he took a deep breath. “Just you.”

Dean scratched under his chin drawing attention to the extra layer of fat there. “Just me,” he repeated.

Sam nodded. The silence was deafening.

“...and you want me to get fat?” Dean finally asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.

Sam cleared his throat. He wasn’t able to stop himself from staring at Dean’s belly this time.

“Dude,” Dean said, folding his arms across his chest.

“I mean,” Sam smiled nervously as he trailed off.

Dean huffed, obviously bothered from the insinuation. His eyes met Sam’s before they both looked down at his stomach. It was in that moment that Dean seemed to realize he had just picked a cookie up from off the table. He paused for a moment and cleared his throat before he sat the cookie back down. “Look just because I might be sporting a little extra cushion for the pushin’,” Dean paused almost looking pained to be saying something so cliche. “It doesn’t mean that I’m fat.”

“Okay okay,” Sam continued. He had been down this road before, sometimes there was no arguing with Dean. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. I think you look fantastic! Just,” Sam sighed. “Just forget I said anything, okay?”

Sam felt defeated and he knew that it read on his face. He wasn’t looking for sympathy, God knew the last thing that he wanted was to try and guilt Dean into his twisted little sexual fantasy, but if his confession had confirmed anything to him it was that he couldn’t really hide anything from Dean. He quietly started to pick up the dishes from the table hoping that this would be the last time it was mentioned and that Dean wouldn’t be filing it away in the “Things To Never Let Sam Live Down” portion of his brain.

“So how much weight were you thinking,” Dean said out of nowhere.

“What?”

Sam looked up to see that Dean had once again picked the cookie up off from the table. 

“You were talking about me gaining weight,” Dean said with his mouth full. “So what are we talking here?”

Sam cleared his throat and sat back down across from his brother. “Well, I didn’t you know have an exact number in mind...”

“You are so full of shit Sammy,” Dean snorted. “No way a big geek like you hasn’t thought about this in depth.”

He picked up another cookie.

“Fifty pounds.”

Dean nearly choked. “Fifty pounds?!”

Sam got up and pulled his chair right up to Dean and sat back down in one swift motion. “I know it sounds like a lot but just hear me out,” he blurted out almost immediately, having rehearsed what he was about to say a dozen times in his head. “You love food, a lot, I mean you always have. It’s not a bad thing at all. So you’d get more of what you love and really what are the downsides to it? We’re not hunting so it isn’t dangerous. It won’t get in the way of your work... you have some pretty big guys down at the garage, I mean not that it would make you pretty big, just you know for comparison,” he took a breath. “You don’t have to worry about me not finding you hot. You even considering it right now? It’s kind of a big turn on. Plus I’d be helping you.”

Dean chewed slowly while he took in Sam’s words. “How did you come up with fifty anyway?”

“I figured another fifty would probably put you at three hundred,” Sam said with a shrug. “Three hundred isn’t chubby. It’s fat. I really want to see what you look like fat...”

Sam couldn’t help himself this time. He pushed up Dean’s snug shirt and fixed his hand onto his brother’s taut freckled belly. It felt better than he imagined, finally getting to spread his entire hand over Dean’s fat stomach. Dean gasped and instinctively recoiled for a moment. Sam didn’t pull his hand away and instead palmed at the roundness beneath it gently. That time Dean seemed to relax and exhaled which pushed his belly into Sam’s palm. It was perfect.

“I do not weight two-fifty,” Dean said. His voice was quieter this time and less defiant. 

“What do you weigh then,” Sam’s smile was sweet and inviting as his fingers finally got to glide back and forth over the curve of Dean’s stomach.

Dean stretched out. He sank further into the chair - and Sam’s hand - as he placed his hands behind his head. “Not two-fifty,” he laughed.

Sam couldn’t help but join in the laughing. “So what do you think?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it at all.”

“Obviously,” Sam teased giving Dean’s stomach a full squeeze.

The older Winchester snorted and playfully swatted at Sam’s hands. “Oh so we’re joking about this now Mr. I-Want-To-Fuck-The-Stay-Puft-Marshmallow-Man?”

Sam swatted back, “Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Sam pulled Dean in for a kiss and then, in one of the bolder moves he could remember making in recent history, leaned in to kiss Dean’s stomach. Dean closed his eyes, surprised at the way that he instinctively purred in response, and slid his fingers into Sam’s shaggy hair.

“I don’t know,” Dean sighed once Sam came up for air. “Maybe two hundred and ten.... fifteen tops?”

Sam actually snorted and covered his face almost immediately. “What did you weigh before?”

“Before we stopped hunting? One ninety.”

Sam snorted again and shook his head. He smiled this time. “Hate to break it to you Dean but you’ve definitely put on more than twenty-five pounds. How many pairs of pants have you gone through?”

“That’s because you don’t know how to do laundry,” Dean said. He looked down at his stomach. “Okay maybe it’s more than twenty-five.”

“Definitely more,” Sam agreed. Dean was chubby there was no denying it. “Can we find out?”

Dean placed a hand on his bare stomach assessing it before he shrugged. “Well why the hell not we’re going to need a starting point if we’re going to do this anyway, right?”

Sam lit up like Christmas. “You’re really going to?”

“Thought we already established that Samantha,” Dean kissed Sam once more before he shoved him in the shoulder and pulled himself to his feet. “Now lets do the scale thing before I finish off those cookies. I want that to count towards the fifty.”

Sam tried to hide mask his enthusiasm but still found himself racing to the bathroom. He got there before Dean and pulled the scale to the center of the room. Dean kicked off his shoes in the hallway and tentatively approached the scale. There still seemed to be a bit of an air of uncertainty about him but he pushed forward. “Okay,” he said actually giving his stomach a slap - this time Sam didn’t hide the fact that it practically sent a shiver down his spine - “Lets do this.”

Dean stepped on to the scale slowly. The red LED lights flickered before finally settling on a bright bold 247.

“.....well shit,” Dean said clearly surprised. 

“I knew it,” Sam practically beamed. He pressed up against Dean wrapping his long limbs around him and once more settling his hands on his brother’s stomach almost possessively this time. “See? You’ve put on like sixty on your own since we stopped hunting. You can do another fifty. I know you can.”

“I weigh two hundred and forty-seven pounds,” Dean said in disbelief. Still he didn’t step off the scale. 

“You do,” Sam said. “And it’s so hot Dean. It really is. Even your ass has gotten a little bigger,” he moved an arm around and grabbed it for emphasis. “You look really good.”

Dean moaned and found himself leaning into Sam’s touch. “... well I still won’t be three hundred pounds,” he said softly. “I got that much right.”

“Two ninety seven,” Sam said pressing his semi against Dean. 

“Still not three hundred,” he rocked into Sam.

“Close enough.”

Sam breathed heavier and started to rub against Dean still fully clothed. He was finally free to touch Dean the way that he wanted, to tell him the things that he thought about him and it was driving him crazy. 

“Sammy,” Dean moaned.

“Yeah?”

He stepped off the scale and turned around to face Sam. Dean pressed his own body against Sam’s and even through the layers of the clothing the younger Winchester couldn’t help but appreciate how soft Dean felt against his own body.

“I think you should fuck my apparently fat ass,” Dean said bluntly. “And then you can bring me the rest of those cookies.”

Sam smiled at the acknowledgement that Dean really was completely on board. 

“I can do that.”

He couldn’t wait.


End file.
